


It Takes a Kingdom

by FlaxenHairedSamurai



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amnesia, Awesome Townspeople, Inspired By Tumblr, Pre-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20138620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaxenHairedSamurai/pseuds/FlaxenHairedSamurai
Summary: There’d been an accident. He didn’t know the whole story and nobody at the palace had been able to tell him. What he did know was that Willow couldn’t remember anything, and every attempt he made to remind her…broke her, for lack of a better word.The room was absolutely silent as Asra told his tale, everyone swapping horrified glances as it became clear that Willow really was gone, and that things couldn’t go back to how they were. By the end, they were all taking nervous glances at the ceiling, and pretending not to notice the tears forming in Asra’s eyes.Finally, Marco cleared his throat, “What do you need us to do?”





	It Takes a Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a post made by faustwithagun over on tumblr. I was lucky enough to get permission to write this as a full story and here it is.
> 
> https://faustwithagun.tumblr.com/post/166083020910/been-thinking-more-and-more-about-asra-having-to

At first everyone had been too relieved to see Willow hale and hearty if slightly too thin, to ask any questions. When she’d stopped coming back every few days, and there were no replies no matter how many letters went to the palace, they’d had no choice but to accept that their favourite magician had fallen to the plague that had already taken so many people from them.

And then, just as the news of Count Lucio’s murder and the hunt for the doctor who’d set the fire was rippling through the market, a cart rattled to a stop outside of the shop. Asra was at the reins with Willow in the back, wrapped in blankets and sleeping soundly. Even though he looked like he wanted to do nothing more than follow her example, Asra still greeted everyone who came to gawk, and managed to get a few of them to help carry everything by promising to explain what had happened.

Given that the last time anyone had seen him, he’d been running from the shop with fear all over his features and showing no signs of stopping to explain himself, it was an effective bribe.

Marco, who had been running the bakery since before Willow had come to help her aunt at the shop, had taken one end of a trunk at Paula’s insistence, and joined the small group of people following the two magicians inside. They’d all had to wait downstairs while Asra settled Willow into an actual bed, but when he was able to join them, he was as good as his word.

There’d been an accident. He didn’t know the whole story and nobody at the palace had been able to tell him. What he did know was that Willow couldn’t remember anything, and every attempt he made to remind her…broke her, for lack of a better word. He’d been up at the castle since the day he’d come back to the city, doing his best to help her with the resources they had there. But after Count Lucio was murdered, it just wasn’t safe or calm enough for her there, not with the investigation ongoing, and the court eager to see someone pay.

The room was absolutely silent as Asra told his tale, everyone swapping horrified glances as it became clear that Willow really was gone, and that things couldn’t go back to how they were. By the end, they were all taking nervous glances at the ceiling, and pretending not to notice the tears forming in Asra’s eyes.

Finally, Marco cleared his throat, “What do you need us to do?”

* * *

It was another few weeks before they saw Willow again. Wrapped up again, this time in a thick shawl that she was gripping closed with one hand, she had looped the other arm through Asra’s, letting him lead her through the market. By then, everyone knew their part, and settled for greeting Asra and waiting for him to ‘introduce’ them to her. She would nod and murmur something, and then Asra would lead her away again, speaking softly until she shook her head at him.

When they got to the bakery, Willow looked about ready to collapse, and Faust had appeared from under Asra’s coat to wrap around her shoulders. As they drew closer, Marco was able to make out what the magician was saying. “Just this last stop, then we’ll go back. You’ve done great, Willow. Ah, morning, Marco, Paula!”

“Morning Asra, morning miss. What can I get you both?” While Paula helped Asra find everything on the list, Marco watched Willow slowly tune out of the conversation, and turn her attention to the cakes they had on display.

Before the plague, when any of the kids or Paula fell ill, Willow would arrive within the hour, with a few bottles in her basket. The herbs would have them feeling better in a matter of days, yet she would refuse to take more than a cake in return. “I get the herbs free from the forest, the water from the well and you always return the bottles. Trust me,” She would say, taking a big bite out of her fee with a grin, “If anyone’s underpaying, it’s me.” While they waited to make sure it took effect, she would stick around, discussing magic and cakes until one of them needed to get back to work.

Marco moved without thinking, snatching up one of the muffins she was now staring at, and wrapping it in a bag, before holding it out for her. “On the house, for our new and hopefully frequent customer.” He assured when she tensed, glancing towards Asra. Slowly, almost painfully so, she released her shawl and took the muffin, mustering up a tiny smile so unlike anything he had ever seen from her.

Before they walked away, Willow stopped dead in her tracks, turning on her heel fast enough to startle both Asra and Faust. With another, fragile smile, she nodded, and it was only thanks to the crowd thinning out that he was able to hear her say “Thank you.”

* * *

Obviously, the new rules were hardest on the little ones. Prior to the plague, Willow had been the marketplace’s unofficial babysitter, and there had usually been a kid or two watching her work or borrowing the fortune table so they could do their homework. Once Willow was more comfortable around people, Asra began letting the kids know they could start coming around again, repeating the same warnings he had given their parents.

And to some extent it worked. The older children took it upon themselves to monitor the littler ones when Asra couldn’t, and gradually, the message started to sink in, and for an hour or two after school let out, the shop was filled with childish laughter and questions once again. But listening and understanding were two very different concepts, as Asra found out.

It was a relatively quiet say, and the unexpected sunshine meant that most of their smaller guests were outside playing rather than doing their homework. Only Susie had turned up at the usual time, and with no customers about, Asra happily sat at the back table with her, trying to explain how multiplication could be applied to magic while Faust hissed out the wrong answers in an attempt to be funny. Willow was in the front mixing up a few mixtures they were running low on, and every now and then, Asra would glance through the curtain to make sure everything was alright. Her general knowledge was coming back, and Asra had already borrowed a few sheets from the older children, who were more than happy to be of use.

When the sound of glass shattering echoed, along with startled crying, Asra was up on his feet in a second, closely followed by Susie. The shop floor was covered in shards that had once been a bottle, and Willow had her head in her hands, whimpers peeling out of her throat. Clinging to her skirt with both hands and tears running down his cheeks was Archie, the crofter’s youngest son.

As much as he wanted to see to Willow first, Asra swept Archie and his bare feet up and away from the mess. With whispered assurances that it was alright, that he wasn’t in trouble, the magician handed the boy to Susie, asking her to take him into the back and to ask Faust where the biscuits were hidden. As they went, Asra heard the boy whimper that he had just wanted Willow to carry on the game they had been playing before. It wasn’t fair that she’d forgotten just as he’d finally gotten to be the pirate captain, and now nobody else would let him be the captain because he was too little. “I want my Willow back!” He finished with a loud sob.

“Me too.” Asra murmured, turning his attention to Willow. Her hands had dropped down to her sides, eyes taking on that glassy quality he was really starting to hate. She didn’t move when he started sweeping up the glass (it would just be his luck for another pair of bare feet to come running in and cut themselves to ribbons) or when he held her head in his hands, forcing himself to concentrate.

It took a few days for Archie to muster up the courage to come back, and Asra couldn’t blame him. It scared him when Willow went into that state, let alone a child who had idolised her. But come back he did, and Asra rewarded the lad by letting him take a couple more biscuits before going through to story time, where Willow and a few other children were helping each other stumble through a story about pirates.

Hovering on the edge for a few minutes, Archie eventually crept forwards, gripping onto Willow’s skirt again and mumbling an apology she didn’t actually hear. Still, she gave him a smile and pulled him up onto her lap and let him stay there until the end, so Asra was reasonably sure Archie had been forgiven.

* * *

A month passed, then another and another until they were fully in the throes of summer. Willow’s recovery left its critical stages and while still not completely there, Asra had slowly come to the realisation that things never would be as they were. For one, Willow had started calling him her master, her reasoning being that he was teaching her everything she needed to know and more besides, so what was she if not his apprentice?

It wasn’t what he’d wanted or hoped for, but since he wasn’t about to force her into something she might not even want anymore, there wasn’t much he could do. They hadn’t had an ‘incident’ for months, and Willow seemed truly happy in this new life, if not as lively as she had been before. Asra had made his bed, and now it was time to lie in it.

Then came the day when it nearly went so very wrong, and when Asra blessed every single one of their neighbours.

It was the one day of the month when the marketplace was closed for business, making it a slow day for the shop. Asra was teaching her the basic three card layout, letting her look up the different meanings in a book that she’d bought him as a gift when they’d first gotten serious. It was very basic in its definitions, but perfect for a beginner fortune teller. With Faust snoozing away in the window, it was easy to pretend things were back to normal.

They were discussing the card Willow had just drawn when Paula came in. Sending a worried look at Willow, she asked Asra if she could speak to him in private. Without being asked, Willow left to get them all some tea. She was getting used to being left out of the loop when people came in with that kind of expression, as well as what came after. Her master would go out, leaving Faust to watch after her and would come back looking just as troubled as the visitor, but usually with a cake or two from Marco’s bakery to make up for disappearing so quickly.

When she came back with the tray in her hands, she almost rolled her eyes when she saw that she was right again. Asra was pulling his coat on, and poking Faust awake, murmuring instructions she couldn’t make out. Unaware of her return, Asra looked back to Paula, “You’re sure that’s where he’ll be?”

“He always stays in the same place when he comes back to the city.” Twisting her hands, Paula noticed Willow standing there and gave her a smile that failed to be reassuring, “Oh, thank you Willow.”

“I need to head out for a bit.” Asra explained, an apology in his eyes. “I shouldn’t be too long, but if I’m not back by sundown, I’ll buy the muffins tomorrow.”

“There’s no need for you to rush then.” Willow grinned. After helping him find his bag, Willow bid her master farewell, and watched him go up the street, until Paula pulled her back by insisting she have some tea as well before Faust stole all the heat from the pot.

* * *

Having lived in the city and on its streets as long as he had, Asra knew he could get to the right boarding house within the hour. With any luck, his business wouldn’t take too long, and he could get back to the shop with a carefully fabricated story about where he’d been.

As he walked, his mind went back to the card Willow had pulled before Paula had shown up. The last in the layout, the Three of Swords didn’t make for a promising future, and with the news the baker’s wife had brought, Asra knew he had to hurry, before Vesuvia’s latest visitor got it into his head to go to the shop.

Before accepting his attempts to court her, Willow had been in a relationship with a man called Jonathan. Asra didn’t know much about their lives together, but he did know that Willow’s tolerance for his own wanderings came from Jonathan’s habit of hopping on any ship he liked the look of and vanishing for weeks at a time with no word. “At least you let me know when you’re leaving, and you leave to learn, not to spread idiocy to every continent.” She had said when Asra had pointed it out.

After their separation, Jonathan had even less reason to come back to the city, but whenever he did, he made a point of visiting the shop to spew insults at Willow’s bedroom window until she had enough and tipped a bucket of water out onto his head. After that, Jonathan would go off in a sulk, only to repeat the action every night until he found another captain desperate enough to take him on.

To his surprise, when Asra got to the boarding house, Marco and a few of the other stall keepers were coming out. There was Archie’s father, Susie’s mother, even Connor, whose didn’t actually work in the market, but made enough deliveries there that he was considered part of the crew. All of them wore faces like steel, and without thinking, Asra tucked himself into the nearest alley, letting them go past.

“Do you think he’ll stay away?” Susie’s mother asked, tucking her rolling pin back into her waistband.

“He will if he knows what’s good for him. Still, I think I’ll be working late tonight, get ready for tomorrow and all that.”

“Aye sounds like a plan Marco. I might join you there.”

There were various other agreements, but Asra didn’t stick around to wonder at their actions. Instead he steeled himself and ducked into the boarding house, almost immediately realising that there was something off. The common room was almost silent, only a few conversations here and there. The patrons were doing their best to keep their eyes on their drinks, and even the bartender ignored the brightly coloured magician in their midst.

It was easy to see find Jonathan. His was the only head raised, almost defiant, and when Asra approached his stool, he didn’t even seem surprised. “Look, whatever you did to her, you don’t have to worry. I’m not about to get battered by every market hand just to tell Willow what I think of her.”

“Where was this chivalry before the accident, I wonder?” Asra scoffed, leaning against the bar and effectively fencing the other man in.

Comapred to Jonathan’s bulkier frame, the magician wasn’t too threatening, and usually this was where Jonathan would stand up and glower at him, like that would scare Asra off. Today though, he remained seated, though not silent, “Accident, he says. There’s no accident that could do that to a woman, Asra. Make her forget everything and send her loopy whenever you try to help her. Oh, I know the whole story.” He said, seeing Asra’s surprise. “You think your market friends are the only people who’ve threatened me today? Everyone in Vesuvia knows about Willow and they’ve all had something to say to mean old Jon on the subject. ‘Don’t you be going near her.’ ‘If she looks even slightly upset tomorrow, there’ll be fresh bait in the docks by noon.’ ‘You’ll have more than water to worry about if you play your old game again.’”

Jonathan let Asra stew over that while he got another drink. For the past few months, his world had been confined to the shop and the marketplace, introducing Willow one step at a time. The rest of the city was there of course, but he hadn’t given it a thought. But they’d been thinking of Willow, enough that when there were rumours of her ass of an ex landing back on their shore, they’d all stood up to stop him before he could undo everything they had worked for.

“The way I see it, there’s no point in making trouble for either of you. Not when I know what’s going to happen.”

“And what is going to happen, Jonathan?”

The sailor gave a lopsided smile, “Simple. Willow will find out whatever it is you or whoever you’re covering for did, and there’ll be hell to pay. I just hope I’m here to watch the fireworks.”

“You’re wrong.” Asra forced his fists to uncurl and pushed away from the bar before he did something he’d regret. “But I won’t waste my breath protesting my innocence to you. Try to leave again soon, the city’s so much nicer without you in it.”

“Likewise, magician.”

The common room was still quiet when Asra left, but the noise picked up as he went up the lane, and he had no doubt that by morning most of them would be too drunk to remember much of the afternoon, and those who did would just share it in other bars for a laugh. They were safe for another day.

But while he shared glances and nods with almost everyone he passed, Asra couldn’t help but think about Jonathan’s words. He had no doubt that Willow would find out the truth, and maybe with the right method or enough time, she’d be able to hold onto it properly. It wasn’t his place to find out though. All he could do was make sure she’d be ready for it, no matter how long it took


End file.
